


Close

by aneurysmface



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: First Time, M/M, Shaving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:58:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aneurysmface/pseuds/aneurysmface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's getting warm again and Rick is really, REALLY tired of the beard that grew in over the winter. Daryl offers to lend a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Ближе](https://archiveofourown.org/works/801978) by [Chrissy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrissy/pseuds/Chrissy)



Rick rubbed absentmindedly at his face, grimacing at the itching of his beard. It had been nice to have over the winter, keeping some of the cold off of his face, but now that the heat of summer was setting in, it was nothing but a nuisance. Unfortunately, there weren't many options to get rid of it. Razors were a trivial item that took up precious space on supply runs and he never could get the hang of using a knife like Daryl did. He'd tried once and had taken a sizeable chunk of his skin off. Daryl had huffed a laugh when he saw and commented that if Rick ever wanted to learn how to use a knife proper, he'd be happy to demonstrate.

Rick had been seriously contemplating finding out if that offer still stood as of late.

With the Governor dealt with, Rick finally had a bit of time to sit back and truly take advantage of the fact that he and those he cared about were living in relative safety for the first time since they had found the prison. With the help of the Woodbury survivors they had managed to clear the outer field and after a few runs to the abandoned town to scavenge tools and materials, had managed to fix the gates that had been destroyed in the war.

Efforts were underway daily to clear the tombs and repair the front breach. One of the Woodbury men, a middle-aged man named Steve, was a mason who had quickly been able to repair damage to the outer brick wall once the supplies were found at a nearby hardware store. No more walkers would be getting in and those that were there already couldn't get out. At this point, it was just a matter of time.

Rick stepped up into the guard tower nearest to the prison—the most recent repair—and looked out at the view before him. Somebody had grabbed a soccer ball on the last supply run (not what Rick would have chosen to grab with extra room in the bag, but he could appreciate why it was chosen) and there was a healthy game going on with the kids and some of the more able adults. The sound of laughter drifted up to the tower as Glenn snagged Maggie around the waist and kissed her just as she was going to try for a goal, preventing her from kicking the ball and allowing Carl to steal it for their team. Rick smiled.

“'s a sound I haven't heard in a while.”

Rick's head turned quickly, hand dropping to his gun automatically before he realized who had snuck into the tower without his knowing. Daryl raised his hands with a smile, putting Rick at ease.

“Jesus, Daryl. Shouldn't sneak up on a man like that. Get yourself killed doin' that.”

“Shouldn't let me sneak up on you like that. Get yourself killed.” There was a joke in his tone, but Daryl's words were heavy. He was right, nobody should be able to sneak up on Rick.

“You'd never kill me. Cuz then you'd have to take over and we all know how well you handle being in charge.”

Daryl smiled. It was an in-joke between them that Daryl couldn't handle being in charge because the last time Rick had handed over the reins to go on a supply run with Michonne, he'd come back and Judith had come down with a cold. It wasn't anything to be concerned about, just a stuffy nose and some coughing. Hershel had assured him it was normal and would pass just like any other cold. That had been all that happened while Rick was gone. Glenn had said that Daryl was just as capable as Rick at keeping people in line, that Rick must be rubbing off on him, because he'd become a leader and Glenn had never thought that was possible.

“What brings you up here?”

“Nothin' much. I'm just sick of seein' you rubbin' at that beard. Figured I'd come tell you my offer still stands.”

Rick smiled. “I'll think about it.”

Daryl nodded and moved to head back down the stairs, but Rick grabbed his wrist.

“What?”

“Stay a while.” Rick jerked his head toward the field. “Watch the game with me.”

Daryl studied him for a minute, then nodded and took up a spot next to Rick, their shoulders almost touching.

“What's the score?”

“I have no idea.”

And Daryl laughed.

>>>>\---------->

That night as Rick was feeding Judith and getting her ready for bed, he spent a bit of time thinking things over. Ever since Lori had died, Daryl had slowly been filling in the place she had occupied in Rick's life. Sure, Carol had taken over with making sure Carl kept up with some form of school, but Daryl had become Rick's confidant, his right hand in all matters at the prison. Daryl was somebody Rick could rely on him for anything. He took care of Judith, was the only person other than Rick who she would quiet down for immediately if she was upset (and sometimes it was only for Daryl that she would stop). He had taken up the job of teaching the survivors who were willing how to hunt and track so that there would be enough food to go around.

There were smaller things, too. Things that only affected Rick. Like bringing him food if he was on watch, placing a hand on his shoulder or the back of his neck for a moment before leaving. Sometimes it was like today, where Daryl would just go keep Rick company. Rick appreciated the gesture, knew that Daryl was mostly a solitary person and that spending time with Rick meant something. And if Rick was being honest, he looked forward to the times he drew an overnight watch because Daryl would keep it with him, looked forward to just spending the time talking.

If he was being honest, he thought he might falling in love with Daryl Dixon.

Judith finished her bottle and Rick hoisted her up onto his shoulder to burp her. It was about time to switch her to solid food; She was holding her head up on her own and cried for food more often these days. He made a mental note to figure out the best way to make baby food. He got a few good burps out of Judith before she started sagging against his shoulder, ready to sleep off her dinner. Rick had just lowered her into her crib when Daryl appeared in the doorway to the cell.

“You need anythin' else for her? Makin' a list for the next run.”

“She's gotta switch to solid food soon, but I don't know that you'll find any.”

Daryl stepped into the cell and leaned over the crib to look at Judith. One of the things Rick liked most about Daryl is his soft spot for her.

“I make better baby food than you can buy anyway. Ain't hard.”

“You're a man of many skills, Daryl.”

“Always got a card up my sleeve, you know that.”

Rick smiled. It was true, Daryl never ceased to surprise him.

“Night, Rick.” Daryl said, starting to move on to the next cell and continue making his list.

“Hey, Daryl?”

“Yeah, Rick?”

“Would it be possible to take you up on that offer tonight?”

“I'm on watch tonight, but it won't take long to fix you up. I'll see you in the tower, then?”

“Yeah.” Rick said and Daryl nodded before going on his way.

Rick ran his thumb across Judith's forehead one more time before he went to find Carol to ask her to check on Judith every once in a while tonight. He had a feeling he was going to end up keeping watch with Daryl all night.

>>>>\---------->

Rick didn't leave the cell block until he had made sure Carl was off to bed. He was doing better these days; going back to being able to behave like a normal kid in some aspects was doing wonders for his attitude. He stopped to check on Judith one more time before he headed outside. He stopped to tell Glenn where he was going. Carol already knew, but one more person wouldn't hurt. Glenn looked ready to start a conversation with Rick about something important, but Maggie came over and pulled him away and Rick was grateful for that. He smiled at both of them before slipping out the door and sliding it shut as quietly as he could.

It was quiet outside. He could hear the cicadas in the tall grass of the field and made a mental note to keep an eye out for a manual power lawn mower to take care of it. Rick took the steps up the tower two at a time and found Daryl sitting on the bench they'd built up there so whoever was on watch didn't have to stand the whole time. There was a small kerosene lantern burning on the shelf above him as he sharpened one of his smaller knives using a strip of leather.

“Anything?” Rick asked, walking to the edge of the tower and looking out. It was a clear night and the sky seemed like it was overwhelmed with stars.

“Nah. Quiet as a mute mouse out there.”

“Good.” Rick turned around to face Daryl, who was looking up at him now. “So...”

Daryl smirked, a sight that was becoming more and more common as the days went by and the group remained safe. “Sit your ass down and I'll get that thing off your face.”

“Hey now, this thing is a well-groomed beard.” Rick sat next to Daryl, one leg folded so they were face to face.

“That thing makes you look like my Uncle John the time he got lost in the mountains for a couple weeks.” Daryl raised his hand. “Stay still. Don't wanna cut you.”

He placed the razor at the top of Rick's cheek, just where his sideburns turned into the beginning of the beard, and ran the blade across the skin and hair. Rick could feel the hair falling away, could feel the warm summer air on that part of his face for the first time in a long time. By the time Daryl finished the first cheek, though, Rick was doing his best not to focus on how close they were to each other. In order to see in the dim light, Daryl's face was close enough that Rick could feel Daryl's breath on his skin. And it felt good.

“Be easier if we had a mirror and I could get behind you, but this'll do.” Daryl said casually as he moved to Rick's right cheek.

“I bet that's what you say to all the girls.” Rick huffed out a laugh.

He got a light (for Daryl) punch to the shoulder. “Said don't move. Means no talking, neither.”

“Right.” Rick said and got a glare from Daryl in return.

Daryl started shaving Rick again and Rick found himself focusing on how skilled Daryl was with a knife; he could kill you with it from fifty feet or he could be gentle enough to not even break the skin. He paid attention to the callouses on Daryl's hands as they ghosted across his face, to the color of his eyes as he focused all of his attention on Rick. Then Daryl pulled back.

“You look goofier'n hell with a goatee, anyone ever tell you that?”

“My mother, once, when I was eighteen.”

“Smart woman.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she was...” Rick trailed off and Daryl didn't push him, just leaned in again and started on getting rid of the offending goatee.

Rick had to make himself focus on other things—like the next supply run and who was on the next team set to clear out some of the walkers in the tombs—to keep from focusing too hard on Daryl. Daryl who was strong and skilled and had amazing hands; who was tough as nails, but loved Judith with all his heart; who believed family was important, even though his family had never given him reason to think so. Rick caught himself leaning closer to Daryl and pulled back sharply, forgetting that Daryl was holding a knife next to his face. He felt the blood start dripping.

“Dammit, Rick,” Daryl bit out, “I told you not to move.”

Rick watched as Daryl grabbed the rag he kept in his pocket to wipe the sweat away after a day of repair work and pressed it to Rick's face.

“Sorry, random twitch.” Rick's voice was muffled by the fabric.

“Right...” Daryl's eyes narrowed and Rick knew he didn't believe a word being said.

“It's just my lip. Done worse to myself with safety razors.”

No response.

“I'm really, really sorry?”

Daryl snorted softly. “Fine, fine.” He pulled the rag away.

“How's it look?”

“Barely nicked you. Coulda been worse.”

“I trust you not to let that happen.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Daryl tossed the rag on the bench and picked up the knife again. Rick grabbed his wrist.

“I mean it, Daryl. I trust you. And not just with this. If something ever happens to me, I trust that you'll take over.”

“You know I couldn't do that, Rick.”

“Why not? Daryl, you the most capable person I've met when it comes to running this place. You're better than me, even.”

“'s not that... I couldn't do it 'cuz...”

“What, Daryl? What's stopping you?”

“You.”

“Me?” Rick was confused.

“I just... I don't think I'd be fit to do anything if you were dead. Since Merle died, you're kinda the only family I got left.” Daryl's voice was soft, the way it got when he'd talk about his mom sometimes.

“Hey.” Rick raised his other hand and tilted Daryl's head up to look in his eyes. “It's a good thing I'm not planning on leaving any time soon, then.”

Daryl looked at him for a minute and then nodded.

“Alright. Now, I'd like this last bit of beard to be gone by mornin', if that's alright with you.”

“Serve you right if I just left it there.” Daryl raised the knife again. He was focusing closer than ever on not missing any and Rick could feel the heat coming off him, could smell him and it was almost overwhelming.

Rick let his eyes slip shut.

Daryl finished with his chin and tapped Rick's cheek gently. “Head back.”

Rick complied and felt Daryl start removing the last remnants of the beard where it had spread downward. His skin felt like it was on fire where Daryl touched it and it had been so long since anybody had touched Rick like that. He felt himself getting hard as Daryl neared the halfway point. He focused on taking deep, even breaths and keeping perfectly still and then finally Daryl was done. One last flourish of the knife and that was it, no more beard.

“Much better.” Daryl said, sheathing his knife. He reached up and ran his hands across Rick's newly-bared skin to double-check his work and this time, Rick couldn't help but groan.

Daryl's hands stopped immediately and Rick's eyes opened just as quickly.

“Daryl, I--” He started, but got cut off by Daryl's thumb ghosting over his lips. It was barely there, more a perception of being touched than actual contact, but then Daryl leaned in and there was no hesitation when his lips met Rick's.

This time, it was Daryl who groaned. Rick leaned in, pressing closer, pressing in until he was all but straddling Daryl. He ran his tongue across Daryl's lips gently, asking permission, asking if this was alright. He sighed softly when Daryl's mouth opened under his. Rick raised a hand to Daryl's chest, felt Daryl's heartbeat racing under his palm.

He pulled away to look Daryl in the eyes.

“Rick...”

“Yeah?”

“I like you without the beard.”

Rick laughed and fisted a hand in Daryl's shirt as he leaned back to lay on the bench. Daryl's weight on top of him was comforting and all sorts of arousing as he felt Daryl's erection pressing into his hip. He rocked his hips upward experimentally and drew another groan out of Daryl.

“Dammit, Rick.” Daryl grit out before he leaned down and kissed Rick again, bracing himself with a hand above Rick's head. He slipped his free hand into Rick's still-too-long hair and pulled gently.

Rick slid the hand that had been holding onto Daryl's shirt down his abdomen until he got to the edge of Daryl's jeans. He teased his fingers across the skin there for a second before he popped the button and gently pulled the zipper down. Daryl wasn't wearing underwear so it was easy for Rick to wrap his hand around Daryl's shaft and give a few firm strokes. He reveled in the fact that Daryl's hips bucked into his touch.

Daryl pulled away from the kiss and bit a line of kisses up Rick's jaw line and then down his neck. He bit hardest at the junction of Rick's shoulder, hard enough that Rick knew he'd be sporting a mark in the morning. And he really didn't care because it was Daryl's mark.

Rick felt Daryl lift his hips slightly and then Daryl's hand was quickly pulling open Rick's pants. Daryl matched him stroke for stroke and kiss for kiss until he pulled back to focus on Rick's neck again. He bit Rick's ear softly.

“Shit, Rick. 'm close. Fuck, don't stop. Please, don't stop.” Daryl's words were faltering and so was his grip on Rick's cock. “Fuck, fuck, fu--” Daryl cut off with a strangled sound as Rick coaxed him through his orgasm.

He lay there for a moment, breathing heavily into the crook of Rick's neck before his grip tightened and he started jacking Rick off with mostly steady strokes. “C'mon, Rick. How bad do you want this?”

Rick's throat was tight with need, but he managed to get out a few words. “God, Daryl. Fuck, so good. So good.” His hips pushed up into Daryl's hand on each down stroke and it had been so long. He kept up a soft stream of nonsense, random combinations of “yes, Daryl, fuck, please” until Daryl's touch was too much and he came apart.

When Rick came back to himself Daryl was wiping them both clean with the same rag he'd used to stop the bleeding. He opened his mouth to say something along the lines of “oh, God, Daryl, I'm sorry” but Daryl stopped him with a kiss.

“Next time,” Daryl began, “we're doin' that someplace I can't get splinters.”

Rick couldn't help but smile. Next time. That meant Daryl wasn't going to avoid him.

“Yeah, I can do that.” He answered and pushed himself up into a sitting position and re-did his pants. Daryl was next to him and they sat shoulder-to-shoulder.

“And from now on, don't wait 'til you need a shave, neither.”

And Rick laughed. His smile grew when he heard Daryl's soft laughter join his. That's when he knew everything was gonna work out somehow. They were in it together. They would figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first TWD fic. I just finished the series yesterday and well, I dunno. Daryl and Rick just worked for me.


End file.
